


Three to five weeks

by vtedy1



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 05:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20002774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtedy1/pseuds/vtedy1
Summary: Siddgeir and the Dragonborn meet. This was inspired by the fact Siddgeir lets the Dovahkiin sleep in his bed and wear his clothes.  And the Dragonborn is also prone to getting lost and doesn't have high regard for his own health.





	Three to five weeks

Siddgeir waited on his throne. He had sent the courier with the summons to this “Nathaniel” a fortnight ago and yet the breton still failed to appear. Among the other Jarls the rumor was that the blonde didn’t show up to a meeting until he got lost for at least three to five weeks. Siddgeir didn’t want to believe in that. How hard was it to find the only town in the entire hold?! And there were some rumors that, and that was quite outrageous to him, the breton denied some requests from Jarls or pretended to ignore them!

And so Siddgeir waited, and waited and then waited some more and precisely at the end of the fifth week and right before the Jarl was about to get his hound and his bow and hound the damned mercenary himself a miracle happened. In through the door came a breton. Wearing ill-fitted leather armor, probably stolen, a cloak too fine to not be lifted off someone else’s shoulders and looking like death warmed over. Shuttering like a leaf in the wind from the cold, dripping rainwater on his freshly cleaned floor and probably dragging mud too.

The draugr-like mercenary approached slowly, holding the letter in front of him. It was crumbled and socking wet, much like everything else the blonde owned.  
“Hello, I’m Nathaniel. You send for me.” 

Siddgeir nearly reconsidered his decision. But then why had he waited so long? With a sigh, he got up and grabbed the mercenary under the arm. The other looked at him like he grew a second head. Without spearing him a glance the Jarl lead him to his room and started to rummage in his wardrobe for something suitable for the other to wear. Finding only noble clothes he resigned himself to losing a pair and having to order another soon.

Making the breton change wasn’t hard. The man still looked at him like he couldn’t believe what was happening. It was probably the fever at work. Sending him now would mean waiting another five weeks after the man gets lost time and time again or he might get defeated and killed. He was a Jarl and used to sending men to their deaths but none of them had caused him to worry for five weeks beforehand. He was invested, damn it!

Nathaniel looked at him strangely during the meal they shared. With an extremely confused expression when he was given a potion to help heal his cold before it got worse. Alarmed when told he could sleep in the Jarl’s own bed because “With that fever you’ll take a wrong turn and get lost or something” and when the blonde tried to argue he was met only with a glare and a promise “I am going to remain on my side and keep my hands to myself, now sleep darn you!”.

After three whole days, the dragonborn mercenary was finally deemed fit to go and teach the double-crossing bandits a lesson. Siddgeir gave him a map, food for the journey and a couple of potions. Nathaniel looked starstruck to be sent off by a Jarl himself, after being nursed back to health by said man. He promised to not delay and all but ran out of the door. He didn’t care much that said Jarl had admitted to using bandits. He was stopping the practice, after all. And he had been so kind it was almost impossible to believe the rumors about him.

Following the map closely he found the bandit infested mine near the town of Riverwood. Now that he wasn’t so sick he could chance to summon a Fire-Atronach. It was the same one as ever, the moody Kinvara, bless her demonic soul. He managed to prove to her she wasn't a substitute for a crackling fire, or there to make the fire happen, she happily followed him off to fling fire and runes around until all of the poor unfortunate souls inside were dead and their ores were stolen.

Normally Nathaniel would have explored a little. He had been in this region before, but it never hurt to take a look or two. That would make him delay and he didn’t want to make Jarl Siddgeir wait for him more than he had to. He had snatched a nice old nordic ring, made of cooper but with an emerald as big as an eye, off one of the bandits. He figured he could gift it to the Jarl as a thank you for not sending him out in that rain back then.

With that happy thought, he all but ran back to Falkreath, managing to arrive before nightfall. This was a new thing for him, going out and then returning the same day. Almost like when he was back home. 

Nathaniel opened the door and presented the head of the bandit leader proudly, collected his pay, presented his gift and then ran off to help the people of Falkreath.   
Little did he know Jarl Siddgeir spend the next few hours before going to bed staring at the ring and turning it over in his hands. It probably didn’t even cost 200 Septims and yet it was nice of the mercenary to give it to him. It was poor practice to demand the loot from mercenaries, after all. 

He went to bed with a small smile on his face thinking that it was nice to have someone useful around and when he woke up in the middle of the night and found the blonde mercenary right beside him, wearing his noble clothes and having his own armor sprawled on the nearby chair, he let him be and went back to sleep.  
In the morning he would wake to the sounds of someone working on an enchantment upstairs and his stewart reporting to him that Nataniel had invested, gifted and helped his way into a Thaneship. And all without waiting three to five weeks.


End file.
